


ilomilo

by pushpeeta



Category: Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Matt Murdock, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hospitals, How Do I Tag, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Hurt Matt Murdock, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Peter Parker, Kidnapping, Matt Murdock Angst, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Matt Murdock is a Good Bro, POV Matt Murdock, POV Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter is a Little Shit, Post-Apocalypse, Pre-Apocalypse, Protective Matt Murdock, Protective Peter Parker, Recovery, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Song: Believer (Imagine Dragons), Surgery, how much sarcasm is too much sarcasm?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:54:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29309148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pushpeeta/pseuds/pushpeeta
Summary: 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕥 𝕄𝕦𝕣𝕕𝕠𝕔𝕜 𝕤𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤 ℙ𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕣 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕣, 𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝔽𝕠𝕘𝕘𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕂𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕟 ℕ𝕖𝕝𝕤𝕠𝕟, 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪, *𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪* 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕝 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕕𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥.𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅.𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕖, 𝔸 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕦𝕫𝕫𝕝𝕖 𝕚𝕟 ℙ𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕤 𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕, 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕥 𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕟 𝕦𝕟𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕪𝕖𝕥 𝕤𝕠-𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕠𝕟𝕕 //ᴮᵘᵗ ᴹᵃᵗᵗ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵃᵐⁿᵉᵈ ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵍᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ...ᴬˢ ⁱᶠ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵖᵒᶜᵃˡʸᵖˢᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱˣ.
Relationships: Frank Castle & Matt Murdock, Matt Murdock & Claire Temple, Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Matt Murdock & Karen Page, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	1. Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First things first  
> Can you imagine what's about to happen?  
> I know the bloomin' don't come without rain  
> I know the losin' don't come without shame  
> I know the beauty don't come without hurt  
> I know that losin' don't come without game  
> I know that glory don't come without...  
> Don't come without...  
> Pain!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ˜”*°• 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙞𝙘, 𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙪𝙮𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩, 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙪𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙤𝙣𝙚-𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙤𝙬𝙣. 𝙎𝙤, 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧, 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

_**Matt's POV:** _

"H-elp, please, please, No! Oh…, Oh God! Hhhh-elp, H….”

_He’s running even before he knows it, the screaming luring him in to the danger, the unhealed gush on his abdomen from yesterday screams viciously, it almost like the knife never left his gut, and it’s turning upside down with every move he makes._

_But he can’t stop, **no,** the scream…, Someone needs him, someone needs the devil, the **devil** inside him needs to save someone, huh, the sheer irony._

_So he keeps running, an instinct buried so **deep** inside his bones, almost like a robot on autopilot. Then again maybe he is, May be he isn’t Human._

_Human instinct should be Fight or flight, he only knows how to fight or… **fight**._

_Something drips down from him, something **sticky** and **warm** , and oh god, in this freezing cold it feels like a momentary blessing. But when a sharp pang spreads from his middle, he realises the warmth was just a facade of blessing, if the copper in his mouth and crimson in his hand, is anything to go by._

_**He ripped the stitches, nothing new.** _

Oh _God_ , Oh _God_ Almighty!

_The burning, the shiver, the **pain!**_

_Something must be wrong in his code, Robots don’t feel pain, he **does**. Guess it’s his added bonus. He feels like he’s freezing and burning at the same time. He doesn’t know what he has done to deserve it._

He trips on air. His body’s way of telling him to stop. But after all these time, it seriously should know it’s owner better. He feels pity for his body because there’s no stopping, _not anytime soon._

He sees stars, his vision blurring.

_But jokes on him, he can’t see for shit on his best days, at least now he can see the stars._

God, how long has it been since he saw any?

Hmm… _Metaphorically_ , everytime he passed out from exhaustion, which is almost a common occurrence these days.

But the real, _real_ stars? Far, _far_ too long.

 _Now is not the time about think about stars though_ , _he has a **soul** to save. He tries to follow it’s heartbeat, but the sound gets muffled with the roaring screaming of pain from his too freshly reopened, unhealed gush. He ignores it, filters it out, forces himself to focus on the scream for help._

_Ok, focus, one heartbeat at a time._

He’s on the right direction, he’s getting closer to the screaming, the voice is croaked, _harsh_ , possibly muffled by a tape. _Heartbeat_? too fast. Scared, of course _scared_ , … _the poor thing. He_ thinks it's a boy, on the _young_ side, 15, may be? He can also sense a group of rather buffy dudes surrounding him.

Suddenly just as he getting almost close to the boy, the crying stops, and Matt's heart drops down to his stomach, both aching in unison.

No, _no,_ this can’t be it, _right_? He didn’t dragged himself all these way down just for an young soul to die in front of him. It can’t be, just… _No._

He listens harder, praying for a heartbeat, and dig his finger nails harder and harder in his flesh until he founds it.

And that’s it, that’s all he needs, a _heartbeat_ , something _alive_ , thanks God for small mercies.

He is bursting into the hallway before he can think about what he’s doing, his arrival is welcomed by several punches in his face.

> “Ready for a taste of hell?” He slurs. A painful smirk rises beneath the mask.

//

Three people are trying to hold him down, while the other two are trying to fetch the young boy, taking him away from him. His hands finds something glassy, and he bashes it to one’s head, the impact puts him on the floor, while stabbing the remaining piece of the glasses into someone’s stomach.

Good, that should put them down for a while.

A rope of iron comes swinging at him, he grabs it while also dodging a bullet. He thrashes the rope at the direction gun, a thudding sound tells him that the gun fell to the ground, he can hear a man running to grab it, but before he can he tangles him with the rope, chokes him until he loses consciousness, and hangs him upside down.

_Everything goes quiet for a second, The only thing cutting through the silence is the young boy's soft breathing, who’s tied to a chair, unconscious._

Having watched their three fellas down on the floor, the remaining two of the gang runs for the boy, but before they can reach him, the lights go out. Dark, and silence accompanying them from every corner.

A force crashes them to the ground in a bolt of blue, hands so strong it feels inhuman, they try fighting back. Kicking, and punching, bashing their heads, pining and thrashing, two verses one, but nothing seems to slow him down, the devil keeps fighting, _eerily unbothered_ , until a feet lands to the man's middle.

For the first time since the beginning of the fight, he shows a sign of human. A sharp piercing sound comes from his throat, scarier than the punches, harsh like metal, almost like a _dying animal_.

They can’t see his eyes but even beneath the mask they can see _the fire_ , the _hell_ shining in his eyes, and they just know what's coming, even before the devil _finally_ unleashes it upon them.

The rest is just sounds of bones creaking and crashing, crimson and pain, and screams and hisses, until all of them is on the floor, the only difference is while the whole room is blissfully unconscious; one figure is still _awake_ , breathing heavily, _facing the boy_.

//

Cluntching his side he wills every neuron in his body to stand up but it feels like someone has cut him in half. Inironically, may be it’s not _far from the truth._

He puts a shaky hand to stop the blood flow, only to realize something other than blood is coming out of himself now… _Sleek and warm, guts?_

 _No, no, no, no, no_ , it _should not_ be coming out of him. _It’s supposed to be inside him._ Guts lives inside, _guts are never supposed to see the light of world_ in any context or capacity, _especially_ his gut, _especially since the owner of the gut can’t see for shit anyway._ It’s _unfair_ , _so freaking unfair_.

He can’t see; but there goes his gut, peeking through the hole in his freaking stomach.

He throws up then and there. The smell hitting him like a truck. The more he pukes the more it stabs, he screams, the bile is then joined by blood.

Oh, _God_ , he’s going to _die_ , bleeding & alone, in this goddamn dark and stinky bunker, _alone, alone, alone,_ in his own blood, _but what's new? Nothing surprising here._

_Everyone left him. Foggy, Karen, ~~Mom, no,~~ sister Maggie, Dad, every single one of them left. _

He realises the thought _of dying_ doesn’t bother him as much as it _should_ , there’s certainly _no one who’s going to miss him_ , he can picture his funeral vividly. Not a _single_ _living soul_ at sight, just rot and flesh being buried _six feet under_ , and _never, ever forsaken._

The image brings out a hoarse laugh, which readily turns into a coughing fit. He thinks at least he saved the young poor soul, _only if he could take him to home_ , then he could die more peacefully ( _huh, peaceful, what a joke_ )

But it’s gonna be alright, he’s young and healthy, and as far as he can tell there’s no wound that has been inflicted upon the boy, except a bump on his elbow, Matt focuses more sharply, not a bump _, a…a bite?_ Which kind of mafia gang bites their victims?

 _Huh_ , but he has seen _weirder things,..._

 _The_ bite is very small, almost like an insect’s, and Matt can’t sense any poison in the boy's bloodstream, and after a _long_ deduction, _he comes to the conclusion that the boy will be okay, that’s the last thought before he closes his eyes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ˜”*°• 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙞𝙘, 𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙪𝙮𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩, 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙪𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙤𝙣𝙚-𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙤𝙬𝙣. 𝙎𝙤, 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧, 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬.•°*”˜.•°*”˜


	2. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My demons,   
> though quiet,   
> are never quite silenced. 
> 
> Calm as they may be,   
> they wait patiently for a reason to wake,   
> take an overdue breath,   
> and crawl back to my ear.  
> ~ Sarah Boswell

_**Peter's POV:** _

_He woke up surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air._

After his 11th attempt he finally untied to rope binding him to the chair. His whole body ached. He took a step & fell down at the sudden movement and shuffled backward on his hands and feet, drops of sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air. His back struck a hard metal wall; he slid along it until he hit the corner of the room. Sinking to the floor, he pulled his legs up tight against his body, hoping his eyes would soon adjust to the darkness.

He tried to remember how he ended up here. He was walking home from school. A group of people walking behind him. He turned around to ask, but they put a cloth on his mouth, the smell of cloroform, the confusion, darkness, and now he's here. _Alone_. 

For some time he sat there, shuddering, hoping this is just a bad dream, that he'll wake up any moment now, but the time just stretched longer. He tried to sink in this new reality, fearing those men will come back, but when no one did, he dared to go up and look around in the dark.

He was surprised to see all his kidnappers on the floor, in the different state of unconsciousness.

And even more surprisingly, he was unharmed.

They haven't done anything to him while he was unconscious, at least nothing that he could feel. 

Well, his right arm was stinging, like a bee has stung him, but that was it. And the occasional places where the rope has sat too tight on his skin has turned pink, and scratchy, but nothing that wouldn't go away in a few days.

This didn't make sense.

_This. Didn't. Make. Any. Sense. At all._

They weren't supposed to leave him unharmed, that's the whole point of kidnapping, right?

Did the police came? But the police wouldn't leave him with them. The police wouldn't beat them up either. _Then who?_

_The first thing he heard was pained breathing of a dying animal, or so he thought. But soon his eyes caught a shadowy figure at the corner of the room, and realized that's where the sound originated from. The sheer pain in the man's voice turned the boy’s stomach sour with nausea; a smell like rotting blood invaded his senses, making him feel worse. He wanted to cry, but no tears came; he could only sit there, alone, waiting._

But the man didn't make a move towards him, didn't even try to. He just lay there, cluntching his side. Even in the dark Peter could see the blood surrounding the man.

_And then it hit him. The man wasn't one of his captivators, he is the one who saved him, and now, he was dying, because of him. His heart filled with self loathing. He should have done something sooner._

He _shakingly_ walked towards the man. Each step groaned and creaked under his weight; he might’ve stopped for fear of falling through the old wood if he didn't know that he's responsible for the man's misery infront of him. 

Up he went, wincing at every splintered sound. _He was always such a coward. He kicked himself mentally._

As if the taunting gave him a sudden burst of courage, he walked over to the broken figure, ignoring the creaking floorboards —ignoring his pounding heart, suppressing the dreadful feelings they induced.   
  
Peter leaned in closer, but when he got a clear look at the condition of the man, his heart went cold. He had to fight the bile that surged up his throat.

_The look was fast—only a few seconds—but it was enough to haunt him forever. A twisted, pale figure writhing in agony, stomach cut open, bare and hideous. Tight, rigid cords of sickly green veins webbed across the man’s body and limbs, like ropes under his skin. Purplish bruises covered him, red hives, bloody scratches. His bloodshot eyes bulged, darting back and forth but unseeing._

The image had already burned into Peter’s mind before he jumped down, touching the man gently, _oh so gently_. At least there was a pulse, but the moans and screams coming out his throat sounded nothing like a living thing could make, it sounded... _dead_. 

And all of this was because of _him_. 

He _is_ the _monster_.


	3. Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I saw a piece of heaven  
> Waiting, impatient, for me, down  
> And I was running far away  
> Would I run off the world someday?  
> Nobody knows, nobody knows  
> I was dancing in the rain  
> I felt alive and I can't complain  
> But now take me home  
> Take me home where I belong  
> I can't take it anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🅻🅸🅵🅴'🆂 🆂🅰🅳🅸🆂🆃🅸🅲 🆂🅴🅽🆂🅴 🅾🅵 🅷🆄🅼🅾🆄🆁 🅸🆂 🆁🅴🅰🅻🅻🆈 🆂🅾🅼🅴🆃🅷🅸🅽🅶 🅴🅻🆂🅴, 🅷🆄🅷? I am not sure if I'll continue with this story, or leave this journey here. I had so so so many ideas, but it feels like I'm too late to this fandom, plus life is too messy right now... Idk, what to do.

**_Matt's POV:_ **

Something soft is touching his face, gentle, a shape of a hand, shaking, … _Scared_.

 _All he can taste is blood, salt and tears_.

His body shudders from the touch and the hand moves away from his body.

A gasp.

_“You… Alive?”_

His tongue is plastered with blood.

All he manages is, “ _Hnng..._ ”

“Oh. My _God_. Oh my God. I thought,... I _thought..."_

_He doesn't finish the sentence, but Matt has an educated guess about what he *thought*_

_"It's okay, you can say it", Matt tries to say but nothing comes out of his mouth._

But the kid seems to know what Matt's thinking, and he tries to change the subject,... "HEY, hey, you _saved_ me, you… ”

Matt mutters under his breath, “ _Nice observation_ ” but even to his own ears, it comes out as gurgling noises at best.

_But the kid somehow picks it up, and just a hint of a smile crosses his face, and he breathily says, “Hey, I ain't buying this whole dying act, if you still can joke like that,”_

The kid sounds… _Hopeful_ , almost.

Like he just found a ray of sunshine in the dark, or a blanket in a freezing winter. _Huh_ , Matt thinks to himself, only if he knew he’s a talking with the _devil_ ,...

He probably would want to run away as far away from him as soon as he’s out of here.

Matt must have said it out loud, cause the kid says, “ _Hey, do l look that selfish to you? I won’t just leave you like that, even if you didn’t save me l would still…”_

_Suddenly the world vanishes away from him, a violent wave muffling his senses, and Matt can't hear the rest of what the kid had to say._

_I can't see, I can't see, I can't see._

_Matt's world turns upside down, and he feels like he's underwater, after a few violent shakes he seems to find the shore, aka his consciousness._

Matt realizes he must have passed out cause he’s once again met with a fumbling hand all over his body, and he can feel little drops of salt water on his face.

“Hey, _hey_ , please don’t die, _I’m_ … _I’m scared, l… I…_ ”

And the kid wasn’t lying. He really was scared.

And Matt being Matt, he had to do something about it. He couldn’t just die in front of the kid and traumatize him for his whole life. He had a degree on self guilt & and his dying act _absolutely_ wasn’t going to be passing along the trauma.

Matt hastily moved his hand, every single neuron protested against the little movement. Gritting his teeth he fumbled on his lower back, surprised to see his lower half is still attached.

He grasped on his pant’s pocket, because he couldn’t feel his legs for the life of him. One more surprise was waiting for him.The burner phone was still intact, thanks God for small mercies.

He patted the phone on the boy’s hand, and the boy in return looks at him dumbfounded.

Biting down a sigh he croacked, “9…11. Call, Get t’ h’ll …outta ‘ere”

Matt could literally hear as the realization sinked in the kid's bones.The boy just said more strongly, _“Not. Without. You”_

Stupid kids.

Gathering every last bit of strength, he says, _“l'm a dead man, kid, just… GO,”. He weakly pointed a finger towards the men still lying on the floor and said, "More... might. Come. Back"_

“No, _We_ are going to get out of here, and we’ll get you to a hospital, and ~~everything… Well, may be not everything, because everything will never be fine~~ , but you are going to be, and… I won’t leave your side until I properly thank you, and… And… ”

The kid was practically rambling now, just goes to show how nervous and scared he was, but Matt had no choice. He turned around and showed his side to the kid, trying to make a point.

_“Does… This? Do…l? Look… Fix’ …able to…you?”_

His voice sounded so weak even to his own enhanced ears. When the kid didn’t respond for a while, he feared the kid might have not even heard him.

He was going to try to open his mouth once again, when the kid said, more strongly this time, “ _Like I said, we are going to the hospital, and I ain’t leaving until you are 'fixed’, so you better be.”_

Wow, Great! One thing worse than stupid-kids are stupid-selfless-stubborn-kids.

_The kid reminded him so much of the younger version of himself that it scared him. The kid said every word with such precision and stubbornness, he knew he couldn’t convince him like that,..._

"I...I can't. No hospital. They'll kill everyone just to get to me, "

The kid was practically shaking now, with rage or fear? Matt couldn't tell. Probably both. The kid gritted out, "...Who?" 

"The man who did this..."

Again, "Who...?"

Matt was so exhausted. "Fisk"

The kid was crying, jerking his head, trying to keep the anger under control. There was something about the kid that told him this probably wasn't the first time he was losing someone, that the kid was experiencing a déjà vu, that meant he might have lost someone before,...and he was determined not to repeat the pas.

"Ok, then."

Wow, Matt wasn't expecting it to be that easy.

"... I'm staying with you"

" _W't the hell, kid,"_ Matt growled and he surprised himself with how loud he shouted, it's like every word ripped itself apart from him _... " I AIN'T F-R-E-A-K-I-N-G JOKING. GET- THE- HELL..."_

The kid was crying, jerking his head, trying to keep the anger under control. There was something about the kid that told him this probably wasn't the first time he was losing someone, that the kid was experiencing a déjà vu, that meant he might have lost someone before,...and he was determined not to repeat the past.

_Survivors Guilt, Matt realized._

"Hey, kid, you _okay?"_

_"NOOOO, no, no, no...."_

_A cracking sound, the burner phone smashed in two, but the kid didn't stop at that. Heavy footsteps followed as he punched the metal wall, the wall bending, the impact echoing through the hallway._

_Matt flinched at the aggressiveness, the amount of anger shocking him, he did not expect it from the kid._

_The kid look taken aback too, looking at his hands, then cluntched his head so tight, the sound of his heartbeat making Matt dizzy._

"What just happened...?" The kid finally said.

"You... Tell me."

_What Matt actually wanted to say was ~ Long story short: You smashed the phone, aka the only thing that could get you out of here. So, it's pretty safe to say you... got a death wish, and there's no way I can change your mind, so what can I say? I guess... Lie down beside me. It shouldn't be too long until the men who did this to you, come back with more buffy dudes. Let's wait for a quick death together,... And, oh, did I miss something? Woo, yes! You got super strength or some shit like that..._

But he didn't say that because 

  1. He could barely get one word of his mouth, his tongue was so heavy, his breathing was so harsh
  2. He didn't want his last impression to be an asshole
  3. He was genuinely worried about the kid, and the sarcasm could only work so much.



Finally the kid himself said, "I... I am sorry. I didn't mean to... break that phone, or the wall... I... But how?"

"A...nythig you w'na sha..re? Now... is the tim-" Matt tried to smile but it came out more like a grimace.

"I don't even know what just happened... I...I..."

"Dead man's... pr'mise. I'm gon'a tak' ya se-crete w- me in my gra..ve"

The kid was thinking something deeply. Probably weighing whether he should tell Matt about his super strength or not--- 

But he ultimately said after a long time, ..."Hey, you might not have to go to the grave tonight, after all..."

What now? What was he talking about? He crashed the phone, which meant he couldn't call 911. Matt certainly couldn't move or go to a hospital. So what now?

Suppressing a sigh, Matt said, "F'r the last tim' no F-R-E-A-K-I-N-G hos-pitals, and even if l co-uld,... I most def-initely ca...n't move"

"Yeah, but I think I can." 

Matt froze as the boy gently picked him up, careful not to further deepen his injuries. 

"Hey, put me... down. This ... Is... Embarrassing. What do you think you are doing? A shame-less sh'w of strength or s'me-thing?"

The kid just smiled in return, really truly smiled, and he was so proud, like he felt useful for the first time in his life.

Matt kept protesting anyway, cause damn you, he wasn't any less stubborn in any way. "I get it, l ... get it, you made it pret-ty clear when you bended the... wall, now, ... Put me down."

Instead, The kid took a step with Matt in his arms, and when he didn't falter, his smile just grew bigger, and he proceeded for gate, carrying Matt effortlessly, and appearing just as surprised at his strength as Matt is.

And Matt had to admit as embarrassing as this was, the idea of not dying in a bunker, _alone_ was nice.

When the first fresh air of the city hit him, he felt like he was breathing for the first time in years. _His city, his city..._ He sucked in some greedy airs, ignoring the pain the mere inhalation caused him. He felt dizzy, so he stopped fighting and let his head fall down.

He said very very silently, "Okay, let's... Let's say for the sake of your wounded ego, l... Let you carry me to wher-e-ver you're going, but what's after t'hat? No- no hospitals"

The kid replied just as silently, like he's telling him a secret, "I think I can find a way for that too." 

And Matt had no fight left in him, so he let the boy win this round of stubbornness, ( _cause damn you, he has done enough for one nigh_ t), and like a good loser, promptly passed out into blissful ignorance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🅻🅸🅵🅴'🆂 🆂🅰🅳🅸🆂🆃🅸🅲 🆂🅴🅽🆂🅴 🅾🅵 🅷🆄🅼🅾🆄🆁 🅸🆂 🆁🅴🅰🅻🅻🆈 🆂🅾🅼🅴🆃🅷🅸🅽🅶 🅴🅻🆂🅴, 🅷🆄🅷? I am not sure if I'll continue with this story, or leave this journey here. I had so so so many ideas, but it feels like I'm too late to this fandom, plus life is too messy right now... Idk, what to do.


End file.
